real

Maybe poems are made of breath, the way water, cajoled to boil, says, This is my soul, freed.

[endless-unfolding]

“One thing remained attainable, close and unlost amidst all the losses: language.”

— Carolyn Forché, from The Poet’s Notebook: Excerpts from the Notebooks of 26 American Poets, eds. Stephen Kuusisto, Deborah Tall, & David Weiss (W. W. Norton & Co., 1995)  (via memoryslandscape)

[endless-unfolding]

“Where have the lost fragments gone? As I lie wakeful in bed what I see is a long corridor of closed doors.”

— James Laughlin, from “Those to Come,” Poetry (April 1996)

[endless-unfolding]

“Solitude, descending the valley in calm, tell me to what wild wood, to what sea does forgetting go”

— Sara Pujol Russell, from “Solitude”, translated from Spanish by Noël Valis (via finita–la–commedia)

[virginia-dalloway-deactivated20]

“Eyes Wide Shut” Stanley Kubrick

[michellekpoems]

Do not make homes out of people. This will leave you homesick and sad, missing arms that cannot hold roofs, hearts with shaky foundations.

Michelle K., Home. (via audrotas)

[sandousy-deactivated20130830]

Crocodiles are easy. They try to kill and eat you. People are harder. Sometimes they pretend to be your friend first.

Steve Irwin (via ivannori)

[psych-facts]

You don’t understand an antagonist until you understand why he’s a protagonist in his own version of the world.

John Rogers (via psych-facts)

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

I was lonely, but that loneliness belonged to me, it was nothing he created. Nobody creates your loneliness. Nobody creates that darkness you have in your tummy. You know, because we all have that. It’s how we deal with it, that’s what makes the difference.

Liv Ullmann, from Liv & Ingmar (2012)

[durianquotes]

There are so many fragile things, after all. People break so easily, and so do dreams and hearts.

Neil Gaiman, Fragile Things

[aquaticwonder]

Years of love have been forgot. In the hatred of a minute.

Edgar Allan Poe

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

If you have the audacity, the inaccuracy, to describe me as ethereal, as some flawless, perfect thing, then fuck you. No, fuck you. You don’t know anything about me.

Daydream Nation (2010)

[foides]

My mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it. The idea that you may kiss it again is stuck in my brain, which hasn’t stopped thinking about you since well before any kiss. And now the prospect of those kisses seems to wind me like when you slip on the stairs and one of the steps hits you in the middle of the back. The notion of them continuing for what is traditionally terrifying forever excites me to an unfamiliar degree.

Alex Turner’s love letter to Alexa Chung (via arcticsmonkeygifs)

[larmoyante]

Sometimes I grow so tired of speaking my emotions to you. I open my mouth and dust spills out instead of feelings.

Gabriel Gadfly, excerpt from “Mouthfuls”

[durianquotes]

I have never known who or what I am supposed to be. The only thing I know for sure, is that I am supposed to be more than I have been.

William Chapman

[durianquotes]

Death’s a funny thing. I used to think it was a big, sudden thing, like a huge owl that would swoop down out of the night and carry you off. I don’t anymore. I think it’s a slow thing. Like a thief who comes to your house day after day, taking a little thing here and a little thing there, and one day you walk round your house and there’s nothing there to keep you, nothing to make you want to stay. And then you lie down and shut up forever. Lots of little deaths until the last big one.

Neil Gaiman, The Sandman

[simply-quotes-deactivated202002]

I married the perfect girl. I married the girl who could have done so much better and took me anyway. I married a woman who inspires me to be the best version of myself just by being her.

Jolene B. Perry, Left to Love

[stoicremains-deactivated2017102]

In a sense, I’m the one who ruined me: I did it myself.

Haruki Murakami, 1Q84